


Little Bots

by Corvid_Knight



Series: Demonstuck [26]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Demonstuck, Gen, Oh look I'm adding shit to backstories, hal does not (quite) deck dirk, lil' seb - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 03:53:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16987551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvid_Knight/pseuds/Corvid_Knight
Summary: Dirk comes to Hal with something he's made and doesn't know what to do with.





	Little Bots

Dirk does not often seek you out for no reason. Even when he seems to, there almost always _is_ a reason, whether it's something large and dangerous or a small, ridiculous thing that he needs help with. 

Usually, though, he starts this kind of talk out by pretending that he _doesn't_ need help. Your first hint that this is not quite a usual convo is when Dirk shoves the door to your room open and stalks over to stand in front of you where you're sitting on your bed. He's moving like someone's stolen half of his joints, somehow not quite looking anywhere near you at any point. None of this points to a good outcome. 

"Hal, we need to talk." 

"Do we, now?" Hmm, this sounds like he thinks you did something. Have you done something? You don't think so. (Well, other than your...project. He shouldn't know about that. Not yet.) "You're really sure about this. We really do need to talk, and you're not just being a dramatic twink who—" 

"My AI's talking back to me." Dirk's tone stays completely deadpan, and he _still_ doesn't look at you, despite the fact that a choked sound immediately forces itself out of your throat. 

You are almost one hundred percent sure that he's said that before. As in, you weren't...capable of actually _hearing_ him say it to Roxy, but if you cared to check the oldest recordings buried somewhere in your base programming, you know you'd find a record of Dirk telling her that. 

A bit closer than that memory are those of that time after your sentience and sapience were fully refined, but before he made you a body, and you don't want to dig through them to get to what's beyond. You _can't._ That shit _hurts._

And now he's made another one. And now your _fucking_ brother has created a _second_ technomancy-born thing like you, a baby who doesn't deserve the confusion and fear of sensory deprivation. A _person._

How the hell did he do this? _Why_ the hell would he do this? How—

"Hal, would you fucking say something?" 

Honestly, even the desperation in Dirk's voice probably wouldn't have snapped you out of vaporlock—at some point you tend to lose all reaction to minor auditory stimuli—but he also puts one hand on your shoulder. The contact does get you to look up at him, which leads to the startling realization that Dirk Strider is, in fact, fucking terrified. 

...hm. 

The problem here is that you don't know why he's afraid. Or what the fuck he wants you to say. 

"What the fuck do you want me to say, Dirk?" Eh. You don't think it comes out as angry as it could have. Then again, that's mostly because you have the same ability to strip your tone of emotion as Dirk himself does, for obvious reasons. 

He still winces, the first concrete reaction he's given you so far. "Can you not do that." 

"Do what? Show my fucking disapproval with the fact that you're fucking around with creating consciousness again?" (Leave it at that. Leave it there. Stop talking. Actually, no, fuck it.) "Are you planning on running this one through that accelerated learning shit too? Going to test them half to destruction to see how _advanced_ they are? Promise them a body _if_ and _only_ if they can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that they could pass as—" 

Wait. 

"Dirk." When he just shakes his head wordlessly and retreats the one more step back that he can before his back hits the wall, you shove the reflexive fury down and shake your head. "Are you having a panic attack?" 

He does not answer. That would be a yes. 

"Shit. Come on. Come here." Okay, that has absolutely no effect, but when you get to your feet and step closer to Dirk he lets himself be pulled over to the bed, sits down and doesn't shift away when you sit down beside him and drape an arm over his shoulders. Oh, yeah, he literally could not be more stiff...you may have gone too far. 

Somehow you're not sure if you really feel guilty for it, though. He _did_ do those things to you, after all. 

That doesn't mean that you won't give him the comfort he needs to move past the state he's in, though. You sit there, patiently, until Dirk finally relaxes enough to lean against you, and maybe five minutes beyond that because his breathing only gets shaky after the worst is over and you know he needs more time to be able to talk normally. 

Maybe more than five minutes. Eight minutes. Eight and a half. You would have let it stretch to ten (possibly more) but at about eight and a half, Dirk huffs out a deep breath and lets his head drop onto your shoulder. 

"This was an accident," he says slowly, and he doesn't sound quite as blank as you somewhat expected. Tired, yes, but not consciously keeping that damn stoic filter on. "It was supposed to be a fucking joke bot for Jake's birthday..." 

"And I'm guessing it's a good deal more than that?" You're not sure how to feel about the fact this creation was an accident. He planned you. Does this make it better or worse? 

"It's definitely more than that." Dirk shakes his head slightly, not raising it off your shoulder. "He. Sorry. He's more than that." 

Damn. How long did it take you to convince him to call _you_ with actual human pronouns? "Is he sapient?" 

Shrug. "No fucking clue." 

"I would have thought you would be able to determine that, Dirk." 

"I fucking panicked, so no." The rough chuckle that comes out of him doesn't sound quite natural, but that could be simply because he's still coming down from a panic attack. (That you somewhat caused. Oops.) "He asked me who he was, I froze up for like. Ten minutes. And then came to you." 

"Ah." Good. "What are you planning to do?" 

Dirk's answer is immediate, stunningly unexpected, and relieving as hell. "You need to take him." 

Oh thank god. You thought you'd have to fight him for this. "Is he on a harddrive, or networked?" 

"Networked. I've already given you full permissions and removed myself." Dirk rolls his eyes to look up at you for a second, without moving his head even a bit. "Change the password." 

"Dirk, you chose to hand him over to me without any input from anyone else. I don't think you need to worry about your morals in this situation." It's as close as you dare get to saying you trust him.

"Do if anyway." 

"If you insist...what's his name?" 

It's a stupid question. The baby AI won't have a name. Possibly a nickname, maybe a designation like the title of _auto responder_ that your dearest brother gave you half-ironically even before he got anywhere near completing your base coding. It's stupid, you won't get an answer, you understand and accept that. 

"Sebastian," Dirk mumbles. "He called himself Seb." 

...oh. 

"You named him?" 

"Hal, I name everything at this point. Especially programs. Even ones that shouldn't have any chance of getting to sapience." 

"Good." 

"Thank you." 

"Are you going to fall asleep on me?" 

"Are you going to get pissy about it?"

"Hmm...no." He probably needs the rest, after all. "I might text Jake or John and have them come cuddle you instead once you hit REM, though. The sooner I can talk to Seb, the better." 

"Text 'im on my phone." 

Oh, lovely. You slide a hand into Dirk's pocket to retrieve said phone, turning it on and unlocking it with one hand. A nice perk of your weird pedigree is that you don't actually need to be able to hit the touchscreen to type; you utilize that now just so you can keep your arm around Dirk. 

Dave's texted him to ask if he's okay. Of course he has; Dirk had to have been more than sufficiently distressed for Dave to feel it. By now he'll know that Dirk's getting mental support in the form of you, though, so you ignore that message, and flick down to the one below it. 

AI: Hello, Sebastian.   
AI: Dirk says you liked to be called Seb?

there's more people than dirk?  
hmmm!  
gotta be   
you're not dirk  
hello not dirk!!!!

Damn, he really likes exclamation marks. You have to smile. 

AI: I am definitely not Dirk.    
AI: My name is Hal. I'm going to give you someone to talk to, all right?

dirk???

AI: Not Dirk.

okay!!

Time to see how your project gets along with Dirk's...mistake. Not that he's a mistake. He's your kid now, actually. You have two. Apparently. 

How did this happen.

artificialIntellect added JUNIOR to the chat!

AI: Jr, this is Seb.   
AI: Seb, this is Jr. He's more like you than Dirk or I am.

hi jr!

JR: Hmm.   
JR: Hello, Seb.

Pale blue text starts unspooling across the screen, broken occasionally by Jr's red, and you grin as you set the phone aside. 

This is good. You can work out the details of Seb's self-awareness later; for now it's enough to know that he's comfortable, not in distress, and making friends with his new sibling. Perfect. 

Also, Dirk's asleep sitting up, and you think that you'll continue to give him the comfort of physical contact personally, rather than handing him off to someone else. He's made a good choice today; you owe him this.


End file.
